Bruised: Emotionally And Physically
by mimeTEC
Summary: Summary for it seems a bit useless. been added on to in the hopes to improve the possibly impending story Enjoy. Unfinished.
1.

Title: Bruised: Emotionally and Physically

Author : Armmonde

Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, most of them belong to the J.K. Rowlings. All I take pride in owning is the plot line and the complete revamp of Hermione, or is it.

Warnings: This fic takes place in an alternate universe (au) which means everything is written with years one through four in consideration but from then it is all product of my imagination. Don't worry anything that is not clearly discussed in the Harry Potter books, I will try and fudge around the facts a bit so my plot actually fits in with all of the original characters pasts. I started writing this whilst depressed about something or other, so don't be afraid and think "Whoa, this girl is a psycho!" you can think that after you get to know me a little bit. Heh.

School Year: 5th

Pairings: Hermione and Draco.

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Hermione Granger. The girl had it made, good friends, smarts, and the best home life in the world. Her parents were kind, gentle, they actually listened to her I bet. But you must realize this was all past tense, she **had** all those things, but it seems not anymore. I had been watching the girl more closely than I had ever before. That first day, on the Hogwarts Express, I stumbled apon her all alone in a cabin.

_"Leave." She said after a few moments of me just staring at her. I smirked, like I always did._

"No, I think I'll stay Granger." And I took a seat. She had her feet curled underneath her and rested her jaw on her right hand staring out the window. Not once had she looked at me, I don't think she knew it even was me, I don't think she even cared. As I looked her over more closely I noticed a streak of yellowish bruises peaking over her black shirt collar. They were about a week and a half old. Being the victim of my father's beatings many a time, I had grown to know these types of things. Then I realized she was fully covered, long sleeved black shirt with a straight edge collar. The sleeves were clasped in her fisted hands, covering most of her hand as well. Her legs were wrapped in what looked like men's cut trousers, loose if she were to stand and a little too long for her. And her feet, on which she would usually be wearing the Hogwarts uniform brown leather shoes, were black thickly soled boots with straps and silver buckles instead of laces. They were partly covered with the trousers.

"No boyfriends?" I asked not ready to ask her what I had really wanted to know. She shook her head at my question, still not turning to look at me. Her hair had been covering half of her face, so I couldn't read her expression.

"They are a few cabins over. You can go get your jollies off talking to them." She said indifferently. She had the nerve to question my motive on making fun of Potter and Weasel!

"Your one funny broad." I joked trying to get a rise out of her. She finally turned her head to me and looked me dead in the eye as I sized her up. She seemed a lot darker in skin than usual, but not a tanned bronze, an dusk ethnic tint that she definitely did not have before, which perplexed me. Not only did she have bruises on her neck she also had a large one, freshly made on her right temple, extending down to her cheek.

"Who did that then?" I asked softly with a carefully toned concern that I didn't want her to know I had. I could question her on the appearance change later.

"Stop. You're acting just like my boyfriends, as you call them. I thought you were better than that." That caught me off guard, you would think she would tell anyone with a concerning ear what had happen to her. You know all that pity party thing girls usually go for.

"Alright, no asking about the bruises. How was your summer?" I asked smirking at her.

"Real funny." She had lifted her eyebrows at my oh so subtle hint at wanting to know what happened to her.

"I try." I leaned forward a little closer to her. "You know, there are charms to hide those bruises." I whispered as if it was a big secret, breathing in her natural un-perfumed smell of soft laundry detergent.

"Of course I know." Stupid me, I was only talking to the smartest girl at Hogwarts.

"Then why not use them and save you the trouble of having to tell people to shove off?" I said once again leaning back and stretching arms over the back of the bench. She was looking at me again.

"I am not ashamed. I am not going to give him the satisfaction, even if he can't see me now." She said commonly. She used the word him. So it was a man, no not a man, a man wouldn't beat a girl, this 'him' was simply a male.

"Him." I said out loud to myself.

"Don't think you've out smarted me Draco. If you really want to know about me, why don't you go and talk to my boyfriends about it, you guys can have tea and everything. Discussing the finer points of male egotism." With that said she had got up and left me in the cabin all by myself.

Yes, The girl simply was a mystery to me. Recognizance was definitely needed in order to dive more into the depths of a one Hermione Granger.

AN: I just wrote this because I'm in the mood for a dark Hermione change, I am in the middle of writing my Learning the Truth Hermione/Draco story so don't expect an update. This is just a little go nowhere ficlette on the subject of Hermione's home life. Review if necessary. 


	2. 

It's 5:47 am; I'm Draco Clarence Malfoy; it's the second week of school; fifth year; I'm a school perfect. My alarm clock is stunningly useless. For days now I've been waking an hour before it is set. My biological clock is telling me that I should wake and watch the sunrise. Without much thought I throw the light blankets off of my body and lay unmoving below my canopied four poster bed. A few minutes pass and now I know it is time for the sun. Pulling up a pair of black uniform trousers that was lying on the back of the chair next to my bed over my legs and finding a ribbed guinea tee, I dressed and walked out of my bedroom and into the perfect common room.

The balcony that extends from the glass double doors on the East side of the castle was an exquisite location for viewing the sunrise. I stepped outside barefoot and lay down on a sun chair. Laying my head back with my eyes closed in the darkness waiting for the first signs of light. Complete silence penetrated my ears in a slight hum of nothingness. I opened my eyes to occupy myself with the few stars left in the sky, instead I saw a silhouette of a figure sitting up on the slightly slanted roof of the perfect tower. The figure was sitting with one leg underneath the other raised and leaned on with the arms. The graceful position was unmoving for the first moments I was witnessing and then the arm moved from it's leaned position. A quill was picked up from the nothing the figure was sitting on.

I found how the figure had climbed up on to the roof, through means of a chair and the balcony railing. I soon found myself sitting next to the figure that took more shape as my eyes adjusted to the light natural darkness. It was Hermione writing a letter. She didn't look up when I sat next to her she just simply recognized my presence and it made for a comfortable silence between us. Since the train I had not spoken to her, no one had really. She had distanced herself from everyone, even Harry and Ron couldn't get more than two word answers. The Gryfindore's started up rumors about her, some were out of sympathy, others out of pure menace. Some thought she had grown to accustom to being the beautiful smart Gryfindore and that it had finally gone to her head. They also said she had used beauty charms to alter her looks. But those whom were close to her knew otherwise. Even I knew that was not the situation. Hermione was smart, she was beautiful, and she had a confidence that awed most, that even shined through now. But she most definitely was not self indulged or arrogant.

People usually don't recognize how much it takes in order to be a complete loner. Something happened to her over the summer that made her crawl into the little world she lived in before Harry and Ron befriended her in first year.

"Who are you writing to?" I asked softly, it was as if the silence was not to be disturbed by loud talk, no matter if there was anyone around to hear or not. She had written the letter on school parchment with a quill, but had folded and shoved it in a muggle envelope. I heard her whisper a spell that was foreign to me and the letter disappeared from her hands.

"My father." She said equally as soft back. Ah that explains it, she couldn't send an owl to a muggle residence. She shifted her position so her legs were out in front of her and leaned back on her elbows. I had already been lying as such and saw the slight wince she gave as her left arm held her weight. I still didn't know the extensiveness of her bruising because of her well-placed clothing, but it seemed as if although they were fading she still felt the full pain.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon giving a soft pink orange glow to the grounds below. We watched nearly holding our breath as not to disturb anything in this perfect moment. The light made it's way up and found the lake and made it sparkle with every tiny movement. I noticed Hermione with a little smile on her smooth face. Her body was highlighted with the sun's luminescence and what skin was showing gleamed. She was so beautiful.

"No matter what disasters strike, no matter how many people die or fall ill, natures goes on." She whispered into the warming air breeze.

"Uncaring." I answered with remembrance of those mornings after the beatings flooding into my mind. Oh how I hated the world, everything seemed to continue and pass me up. I was too broken to participate.

"No." She replied to me, finally falling into the gaze I had on her. "Days come to bring us hope. We survived yet another task and have the scars to prove it."

Author's note. I've been slightly worried and depressed lately. It is personal and I will not bore you with it, that is all in my live journal. My mood seems to be reflected in my writing. I hope you enjoy. 


	3. 

The days passed and became more and more monotonous. My eyes were clouded, everything seemed dulled around me. The only thing I looked forward to was that 20-minute period with Hermione in the morning, which we had made routine. As we watched the sunrise day after day we shared few words but understood clearly. We were lonely together, each morning introduced more similarities between us.

In ignoring both Harry and Ron, Hermione had introduced me to a new hope that sometimes kept me from sleep. Slowly I realized that Hermione and I were becoming compliments of each other. We considered ourselves tainted and therefore stood away from the world in order for it to continue on it's as peaceful as it will ever get path.

Hermione no longer raised her hand in class, if she knew the answer or not was a question not asked. During the days, she spoke only when spoken to and if only by a teacher or not at all. I had selfishly promoted myself to labeling me as better friend to her than anyone these days. School ran its course as it always had. Her grades flat-lined only a tad bit higher than mine did. Perfect meetings were done with such precision on Hermione's part. She always had every detail and subject prepared in case anyone had asked. Even during these times of 'planned fun' (as Dumbledore liked to call them), she was quiet and kept to herself. She kept herself in a restrained manner every moment of the day except in the mornings and it suited her. The rumors died down, as she did nothing to stop or kindle the fire of them. Everything was falling into place, comfortable for everyone or not.

It was 7:23pm and I had just finished my homework essays. I felt strain in my neck and determined that a trip to the perfect hot tub was in order. I stepped into the perfect bathroom after mumbling the password to the statue entrance. It was comfortably warm and there was music playing softly through an unseen source. The music was slightly eerie but was equally beautiful when the female singer started up the lyrics.

The step I took next surprised my eyes. Hermione was seated with her legs crossed under the water and her arms at her sides also submerged. The hot tub was fit for five, bathing suits were mandatory. Draco unclasped the robe he had haplessly thrown over his board short styled bathing suit. And stepped into the heated water, adjusting slowly with each step lowering him further into its depths.

"Imagine seeing you here." Hermione said. Her voice was startling, for weeks I have only heard it at a whisper and now it was a regular volume that seemed too loud for her mouth. She had been watching me gingerly stepping into the hotness. I smirked at her and the response was a lifting of her left eyebrow. She lifted her arms out of the water and laid her biceps over the corners of the tub. I couldn't help my male point of view and indulged my fascination of the female body by staring at her. Hermione wasn't a little girl anymore, she was still petite and had only slight curves to her torso but it suited her but her stature did something for the overall effect she had on me. Her arms were slightly muscled; it was rumored at one point that she was seen in the quidditch gym training. That seems to be true.

"You are in desperate need of a tan." She said breaking my stare at her body that I am sure she had noticed. I looked up into her eyes, she had taken a glance at my exquisitely pale body.

"Tans don't suit me. Contrasts my hair too much, makes me look...odd."

"You already look odd, it seems every year your hair gets whiter as it grows longer."

"Lucius's genes." I shrugged, she smiled. Silence overcame our mouths as the music flooded into out ears and relaxed us further.

"If you don't mind telling me. Why are you so tan now a days?" I asked nearly hypnotized.

"No I don't mind." She said laying her head back on the tile. "I'm half African."

"Bullshit."

"Believe what you want Draco." I liked the way she said my name.

"I've seen your parents and they were both as white as...me. Plus you didn't look like this any other year." I said a little uncomfortably in the end.

"Yes, you've seen Katherine my mother and Tom Granger, the guy who married my mother after I was born and adopted me as his daughter. I was ridiculed in my muggle school because I wasn't white like the other students, so I charmed my skin to fit in here." She said this casually. I bet this was the most she has talked since the beginning of school.

"Oh, so your biological father was a black man."

"Yes. He **is** African."

"I'm sorry I just assumed..." Hermione cut me off.

"You just assumed that he was dead because why else wouldn't he marry my mother himself. And to answer that, my father is in jail. He is up for parole two days from now. He loves my mother and didn't want her to have to endure a through the mail relationship."

"What's he in for?" I asked out of nothing but pure curiosity. Hermione looked at me and smiled, I searched her face for any emotion of pride and found nothing. She had taken my skill at being to able to hide all emotion.

"My father was a thief, and a good one. He was the most pronounced computer hacker in England and the only reason he was caught was because some first timer didn't do his part of the job. But he repents, he knew that stealing was wrong in the first place, although he did steal millions from the government, which still has not been found, his heart was in the right place. He stole from a highly guarded government bank account which held funds for a project that in the end would cause billions apon billions of hard working muggle citizens to loose their jobs."

"Your father seems like a good man."

"He is."

"What is his name?"

"Keith Spenda."


	4. 

"What?!" I asked completely confused. The Spenda family was known for their magical developments, particularly in the area of potions.

"Calm down." She asked getting a kick out of my startle.

"Don't you know the Spenda's are a magic family?"

"Yea." She nodded indifferent to the situation it seemed.

"All those years I called you mudblood and you didn't correct me ever?!" At this Hermione looked at me and smirked. Hey, she is even adopting my smirk.

"My mother is a muggle, but my father is a wizard. He even attended Hogwarts. Big deal. You're just a prat." I had to smile at her attitude towards me.

"What a compliment."

"Yea well coming from me, it's a lot."

"It didn't use to be." She looked hurt at my statement.

"I've changed." Hermione seemed to lose her confidence. I wanted so badly to tell her that she shouldn't let the beatings run her life. I wanted to hold her and tell her that she would be just fine for the rest of her life, if only she opened up and became the Hermione most people knew and loved. But what good would it do, she would counter my statements with the fact that she was Hermione, she was fine and then all of this happened, what would be stopping it from happening again? And at this she would walk away from me and not look back.

And I didn't want that. I found comfort in her company and I'm surprised I never noticed before how elegant she was.

"How is it that you're so cold." I whispered. She had heard me.

"I'm cold because it takes away the pain." She said and stood from the hot tub and grabbed a towel from the shelf. As she walked away I saw the actual extent of her bruising. All along the back of her arms there was tiny round ones, hands that had grabbed her too harshly. The upper part of her neck seemed to have already healed, and by next week those bruises lower on her back would be gone also. Leaving her with only the memory of pain. Like me.

"Hermione?" I asked wanting her to turn around and she did, her eyebrows raised expecting my question. "That letter was to your real father wasn't it." She nodded slightly actually showing me the sadness in her eyes. "Is he coming for you?"

"I hope so." She shivered. I can imagine what just went through her head. What if he doesn't get out of jail, what if she is stuck with Tom Granger? What if she has to endure beatings every summer until she is forced to run away or do something drastic? Yes we all assume that every child is an innocent, that they couldn't hurt a fly. But put under such horrid situations a child can be more vicious than an adult can.

I stood up from the water and walked to her. I lifted the towel from her shivering hands and wrapped it around her, rubbing the towel gently over her shoulders.

"You can't stay numb forever," I whispered to her.

"Have you ever tried?" She said finally looking at me.

"Plenty of times." I still had my hands on her shoulders, she realized this the same time as I had and shrugged them off.

"See you in the morning...Draco." And she walked out. 


	5. 

"Of course I will go."

"Good. Be packed for a few days. No one is sure how long she will actually have to wait once she gets there." I nodded and was dismissed. I had to get to charms now. She would be there.

"Watch it Malfoy!" A tempered voice growled when I knocked my shoulder. I looked up and saw that it was Weasley and Potter. Weasley looked very angry at me but Potter looked as if he was about to say something.

"Something you need?" I drawled like a used to, before my life became haunted by helping Hermione.

"Malfoy, I know we are not on the best terms but it seems that everyday we see you and Hermione together more." Harry calmly hinted.

"What are you getting at Potter?"

"What I mean to say is..."

"Are you dating Hermione?!" Ron cut off Harry by pushing him out of the way and grabbing on to me. With his hands on the collar of my robes I saw his face twitch, daring me to say yes.

"You've got the wrong idea, boys." I stated not getting angry, Ron was just being the friend he once was to Hermione. It is perfectly logical for him to be pissed off that his once best friend is fraternizing with the enemy, and in his mind, possibly more. The pause in the conversation led us to start walking to Charms together. It must have been an odd sight to see, me, Draco Malfoy, walking calmly beside Potter and Weasel. People stared on but didn't say anything. The classroom door got closer and closer, Potter was the next one to speak.

"Alright, Malfoy." It was as if he was giving me his consent to be around Hermione, like he had any jurisdiction to do so. Harry nodded politely at me and walked away to his seat. I stood there contemplating what had just happened. I am going into the wilderness of the muggle world in exactly three days and I am acting relatively civil towards the golden boys.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you please, take your seat?" Professor Flitwick brought me out of my thinking with his high-pitched gnome voice. I nodded slightly and filed down the row to my seat. The classroom was much like a tiny auditorium, each row of seats was a step above the lower one. Hermione sat opposite the room of me on the same level and as I sat down behind my desk, I caught her eye. She questioned me silently and I nodded. For the first time in three weeks she smiled, and not just at the waking sun, but at a person, at me. I felt as if my heart started beating with twice the vigor. Hermione was lightening. 


	6. 

The next two days were hectic with homework. All of the teachers had bombarded Hermione and I with all of the work we might miss while on our little trip. But all that was fine for me, I found contented in the work. Hermione seemed to have talked to the golden boys about her trip but I doubt she told them everything.

At meals I caught them glancing at me with questioning eyes. But I would tell them nothing. Hermione had become the one person in which I relied on and it had become imperative that I show the same kindness towards her.

"Ready?" I asked myself as I stared at my one opened suitcase. The days past fast and now Professor Dumbledore is preparing the floo powder. Hermione had avoided my eyes, she never looked at me, and badly I wanted to go to her. I wanted to pick up her chin and stare into her eyes till we both fell asleep beside one another. But I couldn't I had to restrain myself. I had to wait for her to come to me for solace. Otherwise I might loose her forever.

I heard a knock at my door. I was expecting Dumbledore to tell me that everything was ready for the trip, just like he said. But it was Hermione standing there with her head down. She seemed unable to move her neck.

"Come in." I pleaded. I didn't think she would, but she had taken two steps in. She finally moved her head, she was looking around my room but her sights swept fast over me.

"It suits you." She said softly. I nodded, I didn't know what this was about, I had become one of those people who over analyzes everything.

"Why are you here?" I asked out of curiosity but the moment I said it I regretted it. Even to my own ears it sounded harsh.

"I am here for you." She pulled her head up and looked at me. No, not just at me. There are moments in life when you meet someone whose eyes seem to look inside of you. Hermione had seemed to master that.

"Is that supposed to frighten me?" I scoffed at her to receive a little spark in her eye that she used to get when she smiled.

"I would like to thank you for agreeing to this." She stated as she looked into my eyes, "I know that muggles and Malfoy's don't mix." I nodded at her.

"You'd be surprised, I have taken all of the muggle study courses." I kidded and Hermione tilted her head to the side. She had known that there was a slight motive to why I had agreed to come with her. "I like ya. You've grown on me." I whispered, "And it would be an honor to meet Keith Spenda!" I said goofily to lighten the mood as I snapped my suitcase shut.

"Dork." Hermione said and turned away from me expecting me to follow.

Of course I followed. 


End file.
